Escaping Reality
by ILoveRomione1
Summary: Maybe dreaming could teach her to live instead of survive... Maybe dreaming was exactly what she needed. [Ginny Weasley Sixth Year One-shot. Written for The Potter Games Competition. Rated K for implied violence.]


_Written for 'The Potter Games Competition: Round I.'_

_Theme: Main Characters / Prompt: Ginny Weasley / Word Count: 2,895_

_Enjoy :D_

_Nicole_

* * *

**February 18th, 1998. 11:39 pm.**

She looked over her shoulder more times than she would like to admit, in fear of someone lurking in the shadows. The dark halls of Hogwarts, once so familiar yet now so strange, stretched in front of her as if daring her to take another step into the darkness. But she didn't stop. Instead, she walked faster, her bruised body cowering against the stone walls. Her bright red hair was tucked into her black cloak in hopes of being less noticeable against the shadows the castle had to offer. On more than one occasion, she heard some footsteps behind her. Although her human instinct was to freeze on the spot, her judgment told her to walk faster. And so she did.

When she finally allowed herself to stop, she crumbled against the wall in pain. She had been so keen on finding the door without being caught she hadn't even noticed the immense pain her knees were in. Her head dropped against the stone with a dull thud as she bit her lip to keep herself from whimpering in pain in fear of someone hearing. She was even afraid someone would hear her breathing.

It was always like that nowadays. It was all fear. It walked through the hallways, it infested the air they breathed, and it decorated the walls. They couldn't run away from it…

Oh, but Ginny Weasley tried.

As soon as her body shook with fear, she would run. She ran as far away as she could. She tried to keep her head above the water, but it was hard at times. Sometimes, she could only let the fear consume her. It was as though as soon as she breathed it for too long, she couldn't get it out. It gnawed at her insides; it whispered words in her ear that made her paranoid. As soon as it caught her, it wouldn't let go.

But now was not the moment to let it consume her. She had to run. She had to find the door.

* * *

**December 27****th****, 1993. 12:46 am.**

It was midnight. Surely, Ginny thought, she should be tired and in bed. But she was not. In fact, her whole body was buzzing with energy as she lightly skipped down the hallways of Hogwarts. It was dark, but she could find her way just fine. She wasn't expecting any teachers to be in the hall, seeing as most Hogwarts students had left for the Christmas Break.

So she walked the dark halls happily, every now and then stopping to peek inside a door or behind a tapestry. She must've walked for nearly an hour, but she still wasn't tired. She was mostly thinking of her brothers, how they seemed to know every nook and cranny in Hogwarts. The only significant thing Ginny had found on her own was the Chamber of Secrets the year before, and she had no intention to go back there.

She was starting to think that there weren't more places to go when she saw the outline of a door behind a suit of armor. She frowned as she got closer to it, wondering how she was supposed to open something that wasn't even there at all. It was as if there was a soft glow coming from the cracks in the wall. Maybe she should have gone back and try sleeping again, but instead she got closer.

She tried remembering all the secret passages Fred and George had taught her… the way they opened in peculiar ways. Frustrated, as she could think of a few hundred peculiar ways to do things, she kicked the suit of armor softly, causing it to move slightly to the left. There was a loud creek behind her and she turned. Her eyes widened at the sight. Much to her amazement, the wall had slid in the same way, and there was now a bigger crack in the wall.

Using all of her strength, which really wasn't much, she pushed the suit of armor until there was a crack in the wall large enough for her body to pass through.

Stepping inside, she was slightly disappointed. There was only a mirror.

* * *

**February 18th, 1998. 12:03 am.**

There was a loud _creak_ behind her, causing her to jump out of her skin. She whirled around, but no one was there. Panic running through her veins, she got even closer to the wall and started speed walking. She didn't even realize she was scraping her arm against the stone. She just kept walking as though her life depended on it… although it most probably was. Roaming the halls after dark at Hogwarts was different nowadays. Let's just say a simple detention wouldn't suffice anymore.

A shiver ran through her spine as a gust of wind came through one of the big windows in the caste. She could barely make out the stars as she rushed past, but didn't allow herself to stop and look at what once gave her so much hope.

At the beginning of the year, Ginny used to look out at the stars longingly. It was the only think Harry and her shared, and it gave her an immense amount of hope. It was as though as long as they shared the stars, they could never really be apart. At first she used to kid herself, thinking that as long as the stars kept shining, he was alive and would come back to her, but as the months dragged by, that sense of hope escaped her body little by little.

She realized the world kept moving on, even if she was stuck inside memories and hope of the future.

* * *

**November 6****th****, 1996. 8:54 pm.**

Ginny let her head fall against Harry's shoulder, grinning to herself. They were in the common room, merely sitting there and doing nothing out of the ordinary, but to her it felt special. They're hands were clasped together, resting on Ginny's thighs as she stretched her legs over Harry's lap. His free hand came up every couple of minutes to slide through her hair, but was mostly holding her around the waist. She couldn't remember a moment she felt more confident and at peace at the same time. Ron would have a fit if he came down and saw them.

Harry interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up to see his hazel eyes staring into the fire. "Did I ever tell you about my first year?"

She frowned, wondering where this was coming from. "No," she said, her face scrunching as she struggled to remember. "I remember hearing the story from Ron at home… but I reckon he overdramatized it a tad."

He grinned, ripping his eyes away from the dancing flames to fix them on her. "That sounds like him." He sighed, and after a few seconds spoke, "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, Ginny," he muttered softly, placing a soft kiss on her temple.

She leaned back to raise an eyebrow at him, not really caring about 'ruining the mood' or whatever. "Since when did you get so wise, Mr. Potter?"

He shrugged, pulling her back against him and whispering against her hair. She had a feeling she didn't want her scrutinizing him as he talked. "I found this mirror in my first year," he stared, and Ginny tensed slightly. If it was the mirror she though he was talking about… "Dumbledore called It The Mirror of Erised."

She nodded, frowning softly. "Um, what did you see in it?"

He looked down at her, surprised. "What do you mean?"

She sighed, biting her lip uncertainly. She had never told anyone about the Mirror. She thought she was the only one who knew. "I found a mirror in my second year... It showed me something. I don't know what I meant, but—"

"Ginny what did you see?" he interrupted.

She was taken aback by the urgency in his voice, "Well… I saw myself and I was…" she trailed off, the tips of her ears turning pink.

His face softened as she blushed. He remembered making the same mistake by asking Dumbledore in his first year. After all, your deepest desire isn't something you just share with anyone. "Never mind that," he laughed, rather awkwardly. "I just… It's a dangerous object, Gin."

She let the nickname go for the sake of her curiosity. "Why?"

He squeezed her hand, "Wizards have gone mad because of it. It doesn't show the future, if that's what you thought." She did think that, but didn't answer. "It shows your deepest desires."

She opened her mouth, but quickly closed it. Harry didn't question the matter further, just used his free hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I knew Dumbledore had hidden it in the castle somewhere," he muttered, almost inaudibly. "Don't go looking for it again, Ginny."

She frowned, an annoyed expression settling on her face. "I can decide that for myself," she snapped, rather irritably. If there was one thing she hated, it was people telling her what to do.

He shot her a look, a sigh escaping his lips. "You can," he said matter-of-factly. "I can't keep you from looking for it. But I can ask. So I'm asking you, Ginny. Please, don't go looking for it," he said simply, a softness she had rarely heard before taking over his voice.

She stared at him wide eyed, but he closed his eyes and leaned back against the sofa, signaling the end of the conversation. At the end, she knew she trusted Harry and probably wouldn't go looking for it. But one thought kept running thought her mind. On tiny phrase he had voiced.

'_It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, Ginny. '_

* * *

**December 27****th****, 1993. 1:03 am.**

Ginny sat crossed leg in front of the large mirror, looking intently at it with a frown on her face. It didn't make sense to her, what she was seeing. How could this object show something that made her feel so proud, yet it hadn't even happened.

In her reflection, she saw an older version of herself grinning widely. She was in her Quidditch robes, but she wasn't in Hogwarts. She was obviously playing professionally. But something else stuck out to her. Harry Potter was standing beside her, holding her lightly by the waist and smiling at her.

It was something so surreal to her. She couldn't imagine her brother's best friend ever showing interest in her. Sure, she was in love with him. But that didn't mean he had to feel anything back. He is _Harry Potter_! He obviously has better things to do than talking to her. But maybe…

Her face lit with excitement as she considered the thought. What if this mirror showed her what she would be like in ten years? What if it showed her _the future? _Was this mirror proof that if she tried harder maybe she could be something more than 'Ron's baby sister' to Harry?

Of course, it wasn't a new thought to her. She had considered different ways of making herself noticeable in his eyes. But she had always dismissed the idea because she never thought he would pay much attention to her. She was just the star struck sister to him.

But what if there was a way? If this mirror did show a possible future, she would have to find the way to make it happen.

* * *

**February 18th, 1998. 12:18 am.**

She stopped short as she almost ran by the particular suit of armor that had haunted her in a way nothing ever had. It had haunted her for years… tempting her to simply slide it a bit and reveal the gap in the wall large enough for her body to pass…

She slipped inside.

It was as though she was somehow stepping in to a parallel world. She was leaving the darkness and the shadows to haunt the halls behind her while she walked into something much more bright and hopeful.

She took one look at the mirror and a small smile tugged at her cut lip. It was just as she remembered it; big and intimidating, yet so inviting at the same time. She took a small step towards it, her knee throbbing painfully and causing her to limp, before she fell against the hard stone floor. She didn't look at her reflection for what seemed like hours. She was afraid to look, as though the possibility of seeing her deepest desires would open up old wounds.

She felt vulnerable. Her head was held between her knees and her arms were tightly wrapped around them. Her whole body was in a constant state of pain. If she recovered from a small part of it, it wouldn't take long before someone came and caused her some more. It was an endless cycle that no one seemed to be able to stop.

A few years ago, if someone would have told Ginny that she would be curled up in a ball, alone in some sort of secret passage, she would've rolled her eyes and deemed the thought as idiotic. But now… she didn't even remember what happiness and confidence and peace felt like. It had been stripped away from her the moment Voldemort took over the school. It was as though he had stolen her from herself.

Her head snapped up at the thought of her old self and she looked at the mirror.

She felt as though she was looking at someone entirely different. There was a reason she had avoided looking at her reflection lately. She just couldn't stand the sight of her being so helpless and wrecked. Her red hair was clearly knotted, and it seemed to be losing its usual shine. Her lips were dry, and the lower one was cut open at the middle. Part of her freckles couldn't be seen, hidden by the thick gash running through her cheek. Her eyes looked tired, and one of them was clearly recovering from a bruise.

She didn't focus on herself long enough to scrutinize the rest of her body, as her gaze was averted to the messy haired boy beside her. Harry's glasses were askew, but he grinned and pushed them up the bridge of his nose. She smiled at the sight of him, and her eyes focused on the people around them.

Ron was there. That was the first thing her brain took in, joyfully. He was there looking happy and smiling at her, along with the rest of her family. They were all there safe and happy, and everything was fine.

She sighed contently, closing her eyes to take in the happy image of everything going back to how it used to be. She could imagine herself, free of cuts and bruises, running happily with her brothers. She could almost feel Harry's arms around her as he kissed her forehead in that tender way of his. She could almost feel the smile that played on his face when she leaned over to rest her head—

It was only when her head met empty air that her eyes snapped open.

It was like someone had punched her in the gut. Grief washed over her, something she had been trying to suppress so hard for months. She buried her head in her shoulders, a strangled sob escaping her lips. How could she grieve someone she didn't even know was dead? How could she fall into such a hopeless state of mind that she actually grieved the unknown?

Her hands grasped at the roots of her hair automatically because she was angry at herself. She was angry at the world and at herself and it was all just too overwhelming for her. She searched desperately for the tiny bit of hope that could keep her going against the people she despised.

It was then that one phrase ran through her mind: '_It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, Ginny._'

She had lived in those words for so long. But maybe that wasn't all true. Maybe, just maybe, what she _needed_ was to dream. Maybe dreaming was the only thing that could remind her to live. Maybe dreaming could teach her to live instead of survive.

And so she looked up at the mirror with tears in her eyes, but they were no longer falling. Instead, a sense of bitter determination swelled inside of her and she stood up shakily.

That was the moment Ginny made a life changing promise to herself.

She would keep fighting no matter how vulnerable she felt inside. She would find strength in the hope her dreams gave her. She would get though the war and she would be herself again.

She took a stone from the floor and before she could decide against it, threw it at the mirror with all her might. She watched as the glass shattered and fell into pieces before her and she knew.

She knew she would no longer be a slave of what was in the mirror. She wasn't the shattered person that it reflected, surrounded by 'what ifs.' She was going to fight.

Ginny was going to be herself again, no matter the consequences.


End file.
